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<title>Journey of a Thousand Miles by Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183559">Journey of a Thousand Miles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/pseuds/Jedi%20Buttercup'>Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Thing (1982)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Character of Color, Gen, Post-Canon, Survival, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:49:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/pseuds/Jedi%20Buttercup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah, well that's what one of those <i>Things</i> would do.  And hell if I'm gonna let it win," Mac replied with an exhausted snarl.  Then he grunted, got his knees back under him, and staggered back to his feet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trick or Treat Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Journey of a Thousand Miles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts"></a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They sat there for a few more minutes while the adrenaline faded, passing the bottle back and forth.  It really wouldn't take much more exposure to put an end to things; the fires were already guttering low as they ran out of things to burn, shadows darkening over the refreezing snow.  Mac had done his due diligence in the survival course before he ever set foot in Antarctica; he knew how long a man could last outside in temperatures that low.  And he and Childs had been pushed pretty damn near their limits already.</p><p>Well.  Assuming they <i>were</i> both men.  Assuming every other Thing in the camp had been totally destroyed.  If any little piece of one of those creatures hadn't burned, or if Blair had got to Childs while he was out there 'lost' in the storm....</p><p>Mac considered that a moment; considered the beckoning numbness of the cold, how easy it would be to just drift off while the flames faded down to embers and let the rescue party – whenever one happened to get there – deal with the leftovers.  How much it was going to fucking hurt to get up, never mind actually try do anything else about the situation.  Then he passed the bottle back over and braced his gloved hands against the snow.</p><p>"What now?" Childs asked, frowning at him.  "Thought we were gonna... wait and see what happened next."  Ruddy light glinted off his earring and the frost crystals forming under his chin; the man looked about as spry as Mac felt, and yeah, if they were going to do anything else, their window for it was fast closing.</p><p>"Yeah, well that's what one of those <i>Things</i> would do.  And hell if I'm gonna let it win," Mac replied with an exhausted snarl.  Then he grunted, got his knees back under him, and staggered back to his feet.</p><p>It really wasn't any more complicated than that.  Well, and it <i>would</i> be a shame for all that effort to have gone to waste.  He swallowed, then stumbled over to a still-burning chunk of wall and tugged the fabric back at his wrist just enough to expose a little skin.  He was half-frostbit already, and the song and dance with the wire and the petri dishes would take too much time, if any of the supplies for the previous test had even survived.</p><p>"You gonna help me here, Childs?" he asked, bending over to fumble for a piece of something jagged and broken sticking out of the snow.  </p><p>Childs took another pull from the bottle, glaring at him.  Then he made an irritated noise and set it down, fumbling at the straps of the heavy flamethrower secured over his jacket.  "I suppose if I just sit here, you'll say the Thing got to me.  Then pull another stick of dynamite or something else ridiculous out of your sleeve."</p><p>"What can I say, man?  I'm a survivor," Mac shrugged, gesturing at him with the shard of metal.  He <i>did</i> have one more flare down his jacket, not that he thought he'd get very far with it.  But it was the principle of the thing.  He'd come too far to give up now.  "C'mon, before I freeze any more than I already have."</p><p>"Got a plan for that, too?" Childs asked, still glaring as he finally got one shoulder free and shrugged the tank off his back.  Then he worked himself free of the other and struggled his way to vertical.  He stomped his boots in the snow a few times, like he was trying to get a little circulation back, then gave up on it and shuffled his way over, holding out one mittened palm.</p><p>"Me first," Mac shook his head, then blinked hard, fighting disorientation as his vision nearly greyed out.  Then he dragged the makeshift knife across the side of his arm, where it wouldn't damage anything he couldn't halfway afford.  It stung like a son of a bitch, even in the numbing cold, but it was done, a few drops hissing down into the flames, and then he handed the stained shard out toward Childs.</p><p>The other man stared at him like he was mad, then heaved a gusty sigh, breath pluming white in the frigid night air, and took the thing.  He wiped it ineffectually against his thigh a couple of times – as if they were seriously concerned about any kind of infection beyond the obvious right now – but then pulled his own sleeve back and followed Mac's lead, glaring at him the whole time.</p><p>Mac hadn't <i>thought</i> there'd been enough time for Blair to convert him between everything else the infected scientist had been up to, but it was still almost a shock to hear just a sizzle and not that unearthly, howling scream.  He grabbed at Childs' arm quick, before the other man could roll the fabric back down; but no, there was nothing else there, just dark skin.  It really was <i>him</i>.</p><p>Relief flooded through him at the sight.  Not a feeling he'd have previously associated with Childs, but hey, he'd take it.  If he <i>was</i> going to make it out of there, the task had just gone from flat impossible to maybe only horrendously difficult.</p><p>Childs yanked his arm back out of Mac's grip, frowning more solemnly at him now.  "Well?"</p><p>Mac grunted, then jerked his chin toward the only structure <i>not</i> burning within the camp.  "First things first.  Pretty sure my shack's the only building still intact.  Power's out, and I haven't been out there for days except to look for Fuchs, so it's probably an icebox.  But it's out of the storm.  And there's clothes, blankets, supplies.  Maybe even my oil furnace, if Blair didn't fuck it up when he tried to frame me.  Wrap up, conserve body heat, hell, dig a quick snow cave if worse comes to worst."</p><p>"And then...?" Childs eyed him, still wary, but with a little life coming back into his eyes.</p><p>"What, I have to think of everything?" Mac scoffed, offering a faded grin.   Then he turned and started shuffling off into the blowing dark.  There was enough light left from the fires that he could pretty much see where he was going, and the storm winds had died down a lot; a good thing, since he didn't have enough energy left to take more careful measures.  "Hole up and wait for dawn.  Then we'll see."</p><p>Childs grunted, then slowly started shuffling after him, voice low and wry in the flickering, claustrophobic dark.  "If we haven't killed each other by then.  Even if... you're not one of those Things, you're... not exactly the type I usually share a bed with."</p><p>Mac huffed a tired laugh.  "You say that now.  Bet I'll look pretty good after a whole winter out here.  Like I said, though.  If we've got any surprises for each other... don't think we're in much shape to do anything about it.  Later, maybe."</p><p>Any other evening, shooting the shit in the rec room, he'd have waggled his eyebrows for emphasis; he could almost picture the amused glare on Childs' face.  Not that he'd risk taking his eyes off his feet just now. They were nearly halfway to the shack, slow step by slow step, before Childs found something else to say.</p><p>"You think... any of Windows' calls for help made it out?"</p><p>"I think if they didn't, Thule's still there – the Norwegian camp.  It burned some too, but most of the buildings were still standing. I figure there's a good chance of finding something we can use.  And somewhere beyond there's the Russians."</p><p>"Lot of ice to cross.  Taking a big risk.  And we'll still be a thousand miles from nowhere," Childs murmured.</p><p>"Yeah, well."  Mac shrugged.  "You know what they say.  Journey of a thousand miles begins with one step."</p><p>Childs snorted, then reached out, fumbling a couple of times as he caught hold of Mac's sleeve.  "See what happens, then," he said.</p><p>Mac grinned again, not that he could feel it with his numbed cheeks.  Maybe he and Childs wouldn't have picked each other given the choice – but they could have done a whole lot worse.  They were almost there; he could see the compact building looming up now, a few last yards away.</p><p>Their very own Chariot of the Gods, more or less.  All they'd need to lift themselves back out of bare survival to civilization, given a little luck.  Though any better proof against Palmer's theory, he couldn't imagine.  If this Thing had been on Earth before, if it had already converted the whole world... would they even <i>know</i>?   Every last part of it struggling to survive... maybe they <i>were</i> still doing Its bidding.</p><p>Mac set a hand on the lowest rung of the steps up and tipped his head back.  Behind them, the fires were nearly out; above, a light frost of twinkling stars peered through a rent in the clouds.  If things were that screwed up, then... well, if nothing they did mattered, then why worry about it?  A man could drive himself insane, thinking like that.</p><p>"Yeah, see what happens.   C'mon, man; we're there."</p><p>The climb was hellish; but the solid sound as the door shut behind them, cutting off the wind, was the sweetest thing he'd heard in the last three days.  Mac wrapped an arm around Childs and buried his frozen face in the shoulder of his jacket in sheer relief, half-laughing under his breath as Childs clutched back.</p><p>One step in front of the other, yeah.  And then one more.</p>
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